


and if you had a bad week

by carefulren



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Prompt Fill, Sickfic, Stucky - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, steve and bucky would make great dads tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11883768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: Prompt: "If you don't mind doing this? Maybe Bucky and Steve have an apartment, and Steve invites Peter over, not expecting the teen to get super sick?"





	and if you had a bad week

When Steve answers the rapid knocking on his apartment door, he can’t help but smile at Peter’s wide, eager, toothy grin that accompanies the impatient movement of bouncing on the balls of his feet as he wraps his hands around his backpack straps.

In greeting, Peter offers a salute that Steve waves away with a light laugh.

“I’m not Captain America here. Just Steve.” Steve tells the kid as he steps to the side to allow Peter through. 

Peter nods absently, too absorbed by the very regular apartment. He’s not sure what he had been expecting when Steve expressed interest in housing him for a weekend, but spending so much time at Stark Tower has shown Peter a whole world of luxury he figured extended to Steve as well.

“It’s…”

“Quaint?” Steve finishes for Peter, voice tipping up slightly in question as amusement colors his eyes. “Not all high tech like Stark Tower.” 

Peter snaps a wide-eyed gaze toward Steve. “I wasn’t trying to offend-”

“Tony’s got you spoiled, kid.” 

Peter half jumps out of his skin and whips his gaze toward the owner of the second voice. He opens and closes his lips as he struggles to form words. “Buck… Mr… Winter… James-”

“Bucky is fine,” Bucky says just as Steve cups a hand over his mouth to muffle a deep laugh. 

“Okay,” Peter says, drawing out the word as he shifts a skeptical gaze between the two. “Should I take the couch..?” 

“No, Jesus, just because we don’t live in a massive tower like Tony doesn’t mean we don’t have a guest bedroom,” Bucky spits out before snatching Peter’s backpack and stalking off down the hallway toward the spare bedroom that goes unused. 

Peter’s only met Bucky once or twice, with conversations only lasting a few seconds at a time. He drags a questioning gaze toward Steve and jerks a thumb over his shoulder in gesture toward Bucky. “Is he always like that?”

A light laugh slips past Steve’s lips, and he brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “Yep. You’ll get used to it.”

Peter nods as he crosses his arms and resumes gazing around the apartment. It certainly isn’t luxurious, but it gives off a homey vibe that Peter melts into almost instantly.

*****

Steve hadn’t been sure how to entertain a kid, but to his surprise, Peter had been more than willing to listen as Steve and Bucky bounced from story to story from their time before and during the war.

For hours, the three sat around the kitchen table and just talked, but after Peter’s fifth yawn, Steve opts to cut the night off around ten pm.

“I’m okay to keep going,” Peter tries, but his drooping eyes and sagging shoulders give way to a weight of exhaustion that leaves Steve frowning. 

“You’re clearly tired,” Steve notes, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “You feeling okay?” 

Peter pushes his palms against his eyes and nods along another yawn. “Yeah, just hero stuff,” he mutters, and Steve hums in agreement.

“It’s not always easy,” Steve says, ignoring Bucky’s sharp side glance as he gets to his feet, chair creaking loudly from the shift in weight. “Do you need anything before bed?” 

Peter mimics Steve’s motions, getting out of his chair and rolling his shoulders to try and ease out the deep ache that’s settled in them. “Nope. I’m all good,” he says with a smile before turning on his heel to slowly pad down the hallway toward the guest bedroom. “Night,” he calls over his shoulder with a half-wave that Steve and Bucky return before Peter disappears into the room.

“He’s a good kid,” Steve says as he pulls both arms up into a stretch, lips creeping up into a teasing smile when he catches Bucky’s gaze trained on the small glimpse of his abdomen from his shirt riding up. “Are you going to join me in bed tonight?” 

Bucky keeps his gaze glued to the small tease of Steve’s sharp, defined muscles but shakes his head. “Not with the kid here. He doesn’t need to wake up to me screaming from nightmares.”

Steve’s face falls, and he drops his hands to his side with a sigh. “So are you going to just not sleep?” 

Bucky shrugs as he pulls his gaze away. He wraps both hands around his coffee cup and stares at the now cold liquid.

“Bucky-”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupts. “Just take the kid out at some point tomorrow, and I’ll catch some sleep then.” 

“That’s not healthy.”

“Are you going to go suit up and give me a health lecture?” 

Steve shakes his head, eyes growing tired from the small argument. “I’ll get you a blanket for the couch.” He says before turning to leave, only to stop when Bucky’s icy, metal grip latches onto his wrist.

“Bucky-”

Before Steve can finish his sentence, Bucky is out of his chair and pressing his lips firmly to Steve’s.

“You’re grumpy in the morning when you go to bed mad,” Bucky supplies, warm breath ghosting across Steve’s face as he pulls slightly away from the kiss. 

“And this is your solution?” 

“Is it working?” 

For a moment, the two are silent, but Steve finally pulls away with a muttered “yes.”

“Knew it,” Bucky says with a cheap smile that Steve waves away as he walks down the hall. 

*****

Bucky’s eyes are trained on the muted infomercial when he hears a door creak open. His body tenses, and he snaps an alert gaze toward the dark hallway, squinting against the darkness until he sees Peter stumbling toward the living room. A casual question sits on his tongue, but before he can voice it, his words trail off when Peter’s full appearance is illuminated by the soft glow of the TV. 

Peter is pale, an unhealthy almost translucent shade, and his cheeks are painted a deep red that stand out as a stark contrast to his otherwise colorless skin. He’s shaking hard from head to toe, and he’s got his arms wrapped tightly around his shivering body. 

Bucky is on his feet in seconds, and he steps toward the boy, stopping a few feet away with a frown. “Are you okay?” 

Peter blinks at him, slow blinks that do nothing to clear his darkening vision. He opens his mouth, lips trembling against the harsh tremors coating his muscles in ice. “S-sorry. I got c-cold.” He wants to add more, that his head feels as if someone’s got a jackhammer to it or that the floor beneath him feels as if it’s tilting, but he can’t. He lifts one shaking hand to his forehead, palm pushing against heated skin, and falls. 

Bucky closes the distance between the two and slams his hands to Peter’s shoulders to keep the kid upright. He can feel heat pouring off Peter, and his frown deepens as he helps Peter stagger toward the couch. He takes the blanket Steve brought him and wraps it tightly around Peter’s shoulders before swiftly turning on his heel and booking it down the hall to his and Steve’s room. 

Bucky flips the lights on, and Steve jerks into a sitting position almost immediately, as if he hadn’t been asleep only seconds before. 

“Buck-”

“It’s Peter.”  

Steve practically leaps out of bed and follows Bucky with quick, heavy footsteps toward the living room where the two spot Peter still where Bucky left him, wrapped up in a large blanket and clearly struggling to keep upright. 

“Pete?” Steve says, voice soft, gentle, as he takes a spot on the couch beside the kid. “What’s going on, bud?” 

Peter drags a slow gaze toward Steve. “N-not feeling s-so good.” 

Steve hums, a low vibrato that rings out a sympathetic tone. He cups one hand to Peter’s forehead, brows pulling together into a clear look of concern at the alarming heat. “You’ve got a hell of a fever,” he mutters, flipping his hand and pressing it to Peter’s cheek. “Have you been feeling sick?” 

Peter takes a long moment to consider, but even through his fever-riddled mind, he comes up fairly short in terms of physical symptoms. “T-tired,” he admits as he drops his gaze toward the floor. “K-kind achy.” 

From his spot against the doorway, Bucky makes a quiet exit down the hall and back to his and Steve’s bedroom as Steve continues to calmly question Peter on symptoms. Bucky’s got an idea in mind, but he needs to briefly question someone to be sure. 

He snatches up Steve’s phone and presses the number two speed dial. The phone rings once before Tony’s sharp voice picks up. 

_“Steve? What’s wrong?”_

Bucky pulls the phone away from his ear, frowning at it, before reluctantly pressing it back to this ear. “Do you always sound this worried when Steve calls you?” 

_“When it’s two in the morning, yes.”_

Bucky hums absently before glancing over toward the door. “Listen, I have to ask. Does Peter normally overwork himself until he gets sick?” He’s met with a deep sigh before Tony finally speaks. 

_“Yes. How bad?”_

Bucky pads out of the room to see Steve walking toward the kitchen with a thermometer in hand and a frown set deep on his face. He wordlessly grabs Steve’s arm in passing and steals a glance at the thermometer reading of 102.6 degrees before turning back toward the bedroom. 

“102.6 fever.” 

_“Liquids and rest. Medicine if you have it, but mainly, he just needs sleep. That kid does not sleep enough.”_

Bucky mutters out an “okay” before he hangs up the phone and starts back toward the living room to see Steve carrying Peter, blanket and all, back to the spare bedroom. He opts to keep Tony’s words to himself for now in case Peter gets upset that he contacted Tony for assistance. 

Instead, he turns to the kitchen to dampen a wash cloth with cool water and fill a glass up to the brim before he makes his way back to the bedroom to find Steve perched on the edge of the bed and brushing Peter’s sweat-soaked bangs back. 

“Here,” Bucky says, holding out the wash cloth for Steve, who takes it with silent, thankful eyes. 

“This should help make you more comfortable,” Steve tells Peter, keeping his voice quiet as he drapes the damp cloth across Peter’s burning forehead. 

Peter drags a drooping gaze between the two men in front of him as guilt swells within his chest. “I’m s-sorry,” he chatters, voice still unsteady against the persistent set of chills running rampant across his limbs. 

Between the two, it’s Bucky who opts to dismiss Peter’s apology with a gruff voice. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Steve and I are very familiar with the consequences of lack of sleep, so we’ve got you.” 

“Just rest,” Steve adds gently. “We will take care of you.” He doesn’t move when Bucky drops a warm hand against his shoulder, and Bucky offers a tight squeeze of reassurance as the two watch Peter struggle to stay awake. 

Peter’s eyes are growing heavier by the second, and he just manages out a weak “thank you” before he gives in to sleep with a soft smile, knowing the two older men will be there to watch over him. 

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy, guys :)


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